A/N

TB, I think you're quite right, pal. But then again, if this story isn't for you, it isn't for you. I've read quite a few stories where Ichigo's some hard headed asshole, and sadly, that's just not what I wanted to write him as. So coming upon this revelation, I don't see why you even bothered to read the thing. If you've got anything else to say, don't be spineless, tell me through something I can actually respond to, yeah? I'm a pretty nice guy.

Chapter 1

She heard knocking come from front door of her hotel room, throwing a robe on and removing herself from the man beside her, she rushed to the door. Opening the door, the face she saw brought her to slight panic.

"What are you doing here, Ichigo?"

"Hey, I brought you your favourite flowers! And I also brought the first cake we made togeth-" He began.

From the other side of the door, he heard a man not foreign to him beckon her back to the suite, a plate of chocolaty decadence in his hand.

In denial of the whole situation, Ichigo could not help but stare at Rukia, and ask her the all too blatant question.

"What is that instructor doing here, Rukia?"

"You know the answer, Ichigo."

"How could you do something like this? You could lose everything! You know he's married."

"I'd do anything and lose anything to reach my dream of being the greatest pâtissière. In order to do that, I must learn how to create the famous crème brûlée he is known to be the master of. A Japanese woman can never create the perfect French dish on her own."

Only the first sentence registered in his mind at that moment," Including me?"

"Including you. Just leave."

"You fucking had sex with that old guy just for him to teach you how to make some fucking crème brûlée? Anyone can create the perfect pastries! Talent, skill and the urge to learn will satisfy!" Ichigo furiously whispered.

"That I did. You can leave now." Rukia retorted, only answering to his first angry reply. After a few seconds of thought, she replied again. "That's not the truth, Ichigo. I want my dream to be accomplished. Your gyokuro tea and pastry ideal just doesn't go with the cognac and caramel flan ideal my dream is made of.

"I'll prove you wrong. I'll become the best pâtissière you've ever met. I will surpass that damned Frenchman and prove to you. I'll win you back from him."

"It's a waste of your time, Ichigo."

As Ichigo turned and walked away, Rukia let a single tear fall from her eyes. She closed the door tightly and leaned her back against the door, sobbing as the French pastry instructor ate his cake unnervingly.

Flashback End.

"And so this is why I must surpass that asshole French pâtissière!" Ichigo exclaimed to his fellow pastry chef, removing a dessert dish from the oven.

"Well, I never took you to be the romantic type, Ichigo. But yeah, you've been doing great! You've got so much potential and so much skill. I'd want to be your apprentice if the same man hadn't taught us. My pride also compels me not to stroke your ego too much." replied Tatsuki, whipping away at a bowl.

Two years ago, Ichigo could've sworn the woman beside him would be his true love, guiding him through the art of pastries, not a friend of his. Today, he wanted nothing more than to surpass her and the damned Frenchman, and win back his woman. Stupid, they would call him, but stupid, he was not. Only this kind of love and affection could tear down the emotional wall of Kuchiki Rukia, and only Kurosaki Ichigo had that power. No Frenchman could take her heart and shape it. He could only take her dreams and turn them into reality. Well if a fuckin' Frenchman could do it, Ichigo surely could. And this was his ambition. His goal as a pâtissière.

"Uhm, K-k-kurosaki-san, would you like to have lunch with me?" A quiet voice whispered from behind him.

"Sorry, Inoue-san. I'm busy." Said Ichigo as he continued frosting the chiffon layer cake.

"O-o-okay then Kurosaki-kun." Said Inoue Orihime as she turned to walk out of the class kitchen.

"So blatant, eh Ichigo? The only way you could be more arrant was if you straight up told her you didn't like her and never would." Tatsuki smirked. "She is my friend you know."

"I know, and I'm sorry. I can't help it. She's so clingy." Ichigo replied.

Orihime stood behind the door her usually happy demeanor was now nothing but a grim face under the dim light of the hallway. As she began to click her heels away from the room, Tatsuki exited the room just in time to see long, burnt orange hair round the corner.

Shit.

"ICHIGOO!"

A/N I hate it when people use the term constructive criticism. I mean seriously, if you don't want a super bad review, just say it! ._. Sorry it's so short! Hopefully if the story is well taken by the audience, I'll put more effort into it and make it a little longer. Until next time!